


i feel pretty in a dress

by lohoron



Series: Jared/Richard One Shots [1]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Dress Up, Fluff, M/M, Richard Hendricks is Bad at Feelings, jared loves him so much, richard feeling pretty :), romantic but like not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lohoron/pseuds/lohoron
Summary: Richard never really meant for it to happen. But Jared asked him with such kind eyes. Such annoyingly, beautifully, majestically kind eyes.
Relationships: Jared Dunn/Richard Hendricks
Series: Jared/Richard One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011459
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	i feel pretty in a dress

Richard feels a little bit like an asshole.

Yeah, deciding to hire Cyborg Jared was a good idea, but he saw how much it hurt Jared. And he decided to ignore it -- poke fun at it, even. O.J.? _Other_ Jared? Jared's been a fucking rock for him, these past few months especially, and that's how he repays him?

He's still gonna hire Patakian. Because he's a solid coder and he shows interest in their company (despite what Erlich might say), and holy shit, does he need employees. But he still feels guilty. Jared's hurt eyes when he said it was too big of a hassle. Jared's hurt eyes when Gilfoyle compared his status to the infamy of O.J. Simpson. Fuck. He should've told them to cut it out. He shouldn't have participated in the conversation like that.

He rubs his face and buries his head into his pillow, letting out a muffled groan. He should apologize. At the very least, he should apologize to Jared for basically saying that calling him by his real name was too much of a hassle. That's rude. 

( _Rude. God, Richard, he's never gonna think it's sincere. You're rude. You're just a mean person, aren't you? Constantly undermining others in order to get ahead. And where has that brought you? Further away from somebody who was quickly becoming your best friend. Fuck._ )

His legs move by themselves, really, swaying off of the bed in his boxer shorts and t-shirt, anxiously biting at the skin around his thumb. His brain's running wild with stupid, stupid little scenarios (Jared killed himself, Jared left, Jared is crying, Jared is stoic and unemotional, Jared is blank-faced), but he makes the executive decision to ignore them. This is important. Jared is important. He can't excuse his shitty behavior just because he wasn't the only person to act that way.

He swings by the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring himself some orange juice, before standing in front of the garage door. He takes a deep breath, knocking softly twice.

He hears some rustling.

(Okay, good, so he's not dead!)

And then he hears a pained hiss, followed by Jared's panicked, "Just a moment!"

And then he gets scared again.

"Uh, it's me," Richard says quickly (only just now realizing that it is literally one in the morning), "Can I come in?"

Jared doesn't answer for a second. And then footsteps approach the door in a soft and familiar rhythm, the door swinging open to reveal a slightly disheveled Jared Dunn (Donald?). He's wearing his usual button up, coupled with a vest today, and a pair of khakis, but his sleeves are rolled up. And he wears his hair in a tad of a mess, bunny slippers firm on his feet. "Hey, Richard," Jared breathes, smile on his face.

Richard peeks around the nearly dark room. 

He sees it standing in the corner, right behind Jared's bed, slightly hidden. A mannequin dress form that's clothed with a nearly finished, midi-length dress. Richard does not know much about dresses. But this one is cute. Sweet.

(The color is the same color as Jared's eyes and the ribbon around the middle makes him feel like it's straight from Little House on the Prairie. There's this pretty poofy sleeve on one side, the other one laying detached on the floor.)

"Are you busy?" Richard bites down on his lip and looks up, wringing with his fingers.

Jared shakes his head. "I'm never too busy for you." Richard turns red, smoothing his tongue over his upper teeth awkwardly as he walks in.

He lets Richard in with a smile, sitting down on his cot. Richard knew Jared was here sometimes; if the nights got too long, or if he didn't feel like driving home. But upon seeing his little cot set up in the corner with a clothing rack against the wall and a full-on _dress_ standing next to it, he figures he might stay here a bit more often than they know.

But that's not why he's here. He's here because -- "Do you mind terribly if I finish the dress while we talk?" Jared inquires, his hands reaching for his measuring tape and needle and thread. Richard swallows his breath. He shakes his head.

"Not at all, no, you-- you go ahead," Richard responds shakily, watching Jared carry the dress form to be positioned right in front of himself. "I- uh-- I didn't know. That you could, uh, sew."

Jared smiles again, taking the dress off form and flipping it inside out to start attaching the sleeve by hand. "Not many know! I never talk about it." (Jared, why not, Jared, talk about the things you love, please, Jared, please).

"Ah. Cool. Yeah." Richard coughs into his sleeve and watches Jared's fingers. They look impossibly long and slender, moving with such intent. "Anyway. Yeah. So. Uh-- just. I'm sorry about earlier today. The whole... O.J. thing. That wasn't... I mean. It wasn't cool. So. I'm sorry, man. We can call you Donald, if you'd like, still. Or, uh, anything else."

Richard finishes by patting Jared's shoulder softly, immediately feeling awkward, and he chuckles. Jared stops his movements for a second (no, don't stop. Please. Your fingers look so nice when they're holding up light blue fabric like it's fine china. Please), and looks up, corners of his mouth quirked up. "Thank you, Richard. That means... a lot to me." Richard looks away. He can't possibly look at Jared for this long. His awkwardly handsome face and clumsy body. "We'll do whatever you think is best. But... I like the name Jared. I'd like for it to stick."

"Yeah, me too. I mean. It, like, suits you. So," Richard smiles, watching Jared return to his task, "That dress is, uh, real pretty. I like the color." 

Jared pauses his work on the sleeve again, halfway done with attaching. He smiles fondly. "My god-daughter wants a dress for her high school prom. I promised her I'd make it for her."

Richard decides not to comment on the fact that Jared has a fucking god-daughter.

"Well. She's uh-- she's gonna love it. Really. It's nice."

Richard never really meant for it to happen. But Jared asked him with such kind eyes. Such annoyingly, beautifully, majestically kind eyes. 

("You're roughly the same size as her, actually. Oh, if you wouldn't mind terribly, could you try it on for me?" "Uh, what?? I mean. I'm like. I don't know, man." "I'm sorry, Richard. Forget I asked, please." "Wait, no, uh. Yeah, sure. I'll do it. I can try it on. If it helps." "It would be tremendously helpful. Thank you so much, Richard.")

And the next thing he knows, he's waiting for Jared to finish the final stitch on his sleeve. While sipping the orange juice he hadn't touched in ten minutes. He's biting down on his lip, watching Jared shock up every once and again from pricking himself with his needle. 

"Could I- uh, like, get some new underwear? I mean. These are like. Big. So... you'll see them. Through the dress, or whatever," Richard asks, antsy to move anywhere at all. This is scary for no reason. No reason.

"Oh, yes! You can borrow some of mine, if you'd like. They're all clean," Jared offers, turning the dress inside out again. Richard nods, feeling a little awkward about sharing underwear with his friend and co-worker, but it's not that deep. Not really. Richard walks over to Jared's clothing rack, a little box labeled _Underwear_ right below a crisp white shirt. He grabs a pair of briefs and chuckles awkwardly, not sure what to do. Locker room style? Is he gonna get naked right here, right now? Uh. "Oh! Sorry! I'll turn around, don't worry," Jared smiles, turning to face away from Richard as he admires the dress he's sewn.

Richard has never changed his underwear faster in his life. 

The briefs are a little bit tighter than he likes his own, but it's not a terrible difference. Richard bets they're the same size. 

He chucks his boxer shorts to the side and walks back to Jared on bare feet, cheeks flushed red. He feels strangely exposed. "Shirt off too?" Richard asks, Jared's stupidly pretty eyes staring him down. Feeling like razor blades.

"If you're comfortable," Jared assures, and Richard knows that he means it. So he takes off his shirt, the dim light barely illuminating him. 

He's... awkwardly shaped. Slight tummy, but overall very thin. He doesn't have a lot of muscle. Or fat. So, he's just kind of a hunched over boy that never grew up big and strong. "So, uh, like, where do you... want me?" He asks, laughing awkwardly. Jared stands up, holding the dress by the bottom of the bodice so he can easily slide it over Richard's head. 

"Arms up," Jared whispers, and Richard immediately concedes, raising his arms and feeling the flush fabric of the Jared-Dunn's-Eye-Color dress slip over his head. It's a little loose, his arms slipping in easily. There's ample room for a chest (which is where Richard supposes Jared's god-daughter's boobs will go (is it bad to think about your friend's god-daughter's boobs? Yeah. Definitely when she's probably a minor. Yikes.)), and Richard finds himself enjoying the free space.

Jared smoothing the fabric out, pulling the inner layer of the skirt down so that Richard has a smooth and silky slip running across his legs. He shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath. It's nice. It's really nice, actually, to wear something pretty for once. Something that isn't a grey hoodie and eight year old jeans. Something that isn't heart boxers and an oversized t-shirt. "I'm going to tie it in the back, okay? Let me know if it's too tight," Jared quipped, grabbing Richard's shoulders and giving him a soft smile before turning to the back of him. He grabs the two sides of the beige ribbon and ties it into a bow, a little tighter than Richard is comfortable with (but he likes it, God dammit, he likes that it's almost restricting his rib cage). "Is that alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's-uh. Yeah. Good," Richard swallows, watching as Jared prances back to stand in front of him. "So. Is it... okay? I mean. Like. The fabric feels good."

"Golly, that's good news. Not too scratchy?" Jared inquires, smoothing his hand over the puffy arm, twisting it so it's aligned with the bodice. Richard shakes his head.

"Not at all. It's nice. Uh. Yeah." Richard looks down and panics, immediately looking back up. He's wearing a dress. He's wearing a dress. Ah. Ah. He's wearing a DRESS(!!!!)

Jared kneels down, placing little pins at the unfinished hem of the dress. Richard can not _not_ realize how close Jared is to his dick. 

He finds himself thinking about a life where maybe, just maybe, he could actually wear something like this. Just in the grocery store. Grabbing almond milk and cashews and maybe a couple of yogurts. He thinks about sitting on a bench in a park in Rhode Island, feeding the pigeons bread and smiling. He fantasizes about Jared running his fingers up and down his body in the dress, his pressured fingertips bleeding through to Richard's bare skin.

(Wow. What was that?)

Richard is fully blushing. He likes it. He likes the dress. Fuck. He wants the dress. Even if it's just to chill in while he's alone in his room. To feel worthy and lovely while writing code. To have a little secret that nobody knows.

"Richard?" Jared asks, gaze concerned, "Are you feeling okay? You look like you're burning up. I can get you some ice water--"

"No, no it's-- no. All good," Richard chuckles, taking a shallow breath in. "I just- uh. I... I feel pretty. Ha. That's so stupid."

But a smile spreads across Jared's face and he grabs Richard's hand, smoothing his thumb over his knuckles. "You look pretty, too."

Richard is fairly certain that he's dreaming because Jared looks nothing short of an angel. "Ah. Stop. Ha," Richard laughs, covering his face with his hands, effectively separating their hands.

"I could make you one. If you'd like?" Jared offers, voice small and hesitant.

Richard thinks. Because his mind is screaming at him in two different languages.

(YES!! YES! Cmon. Jared is totally cool with it and he said you look pretty. Just ask him to make you one, it'll be a weight off of your shoulders. You don't ever have to wear it except in your room. Nobody's forcing you to even wear it at all. You could just own it. As a gift from Jared.)

And

(No. What the fuck, are you insane? Are you a sissy? What is happening to you right now, Richard? You're a grown man and you wanna play dress-up just because it makes you feel _pretty_? Give me a fuckin' break.)

He shuts his eyes tight. "Yes."

"Yes?" Jared asks again, voice undeniably excited.

"Yeah. Yes. Uh. Please."

"Of course," Jared chimes, "Anything to make you feel pretty."

**Author's Note:**

> uh yeah <3 richie in a dress <3


End file.
